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Travel Talk

Embracing Jamaica

I awoke to the snarl of a speeding Seadoo – an unwelcome intrusion into my late morning snooze. Still jet-lagged from a seven-hour flight from Calgary and two-hour drive from Montego Bay airport to Ocho Rios, I silently cursed the Canadian technology that created those infernal machines.

It was the middle of the night and pitch dark when we arrived at the Riu Ocho Rios and I had no idea what to expect when I got up, bleary-eyed, and pulled open the blinds on our fifth-storey balcony.

The immaculate white and mauve wings of the hotel embrace a huge complex of pools, gardens, gazebos, and winding walkways where early-morning sun worshipers are beginning to appear. Beyond the pools and palm-lined sandy beach an inner lagoon reflects the morning sun in a hundred shades of turquoise and blue. And beyond the lagoon, giant breakers rolling in from the Caribbean Sea, crash against a protective outer reef. Jet-lagged or not, this was no time to be sleeping. We slipped into our bathing suits and headed for the beach.

"Hi Mon! A necklace for the lady? Very pretty."

"No thanks Mon."

"Hey Mon! My name Bob. Take good picture – you an' the lady."

"No thanks Bob."

The hawkers, who are allowed on the beach and water but not on the hotel grounds, are persistent but polite and move quickly on to other potential customers. I leave them on the beach, swim out to the line of buoys that define the safe swimming area, and float on my back in the warm salty water. In a flurry of foam and noise the Seadoo banks to a stop just outside the buoys.

"Hi Mon! You coma me. I give you fas ride. Big trill!"

I wave him on and he idles over to a nearby couple floating on air mattresses. Whether it’s the little guy eking out a living hawking beadwork and tie-dyed scarves on the beach, an entrepreneur selling rides on his Seadoo, or a giant multinational hotel chain selling all-inclusive holidays, Jamaica is a land of free enterprise and the tourist market is hot.

The five-star ClubHotel Riu Ocho Rios is Jamaica's newest all-inclusive resort. It opened in October 2005, only four months before our visit, and it was already in full operation. With 846 rooms it is the largest of three Jamaican hotels owned and operated by the Riu family. From its inception in 1953 the family-run business has grown from a small 80-bed hotel in Majorca to an international chain with 109 hotels and 17,000 employees. The Riu obviously has a formula that works, and the chain is still expanding to meet the growing demand for all-inclusive sun and beach holidays.

The hedonistic world of all-inclusivism creates the illusion that everything from beach towels to booze is free – just flash the little blue band on your wrist, ask and it shall be given. Of course the blue band doesn't come cheap, a little detail that is soon forgotten amid the excesses of five-star opulence. But when the spell wears off and the band no longer works the bill is waiting out there in the real world.

During our week of playing celebrity at the Riu we barely touched the multitude of pleasures offered. With the St. Ann restaurant serving a huge variety of delectable dishes it hardly seemed necessary to sample the Riu's other six specialty restaurants, but we fitted in a gourmet meal at Sir Richards and an Asian meal at the Mandalay. In addition to the minibar with liquor dispenser and well-stocked fridge in our room, there are six other bars to choose from. And for those addicted to multi-tasking the Reggae and Rastafari swim-up bars offer simultaneous soaking and boozing.

Judging from their size many of the patrons never stray far from the food, drink, and beach lounges, but there is no lack of other things to do. In an effort to preserve our ski-legs we started each day with a workout in the well-equipped gym. The warm clear water invites swimming and there is plenty of equipment available for sailing, windsurfing, snorkeling, and kayaking. On the beach you can play volleyball, tennis, ping-pong, or bocce; and in the pools you can join an aerobics class or put on scuba gear and take a diving lesson. The list goes on and on. And after sunset, if the free rum has not already floored you, there is live music, dancing and a stage show in the Dunn's River plaza bar.

We don't usually travel in the Riu style but Jamaica was a new destination for us, and with only a few days to fit in a sun-break, the all-inclusive option looked pretty good. No need to plan or prepare for the unknown – just show up, pay up-front, relax and enjoy. And the experience was undeniably enjoyable – seven utterly decadent days of living as though we were millionaires. But that was long enough.

After a week we were getting a bit stir-crazy. The sandy beach, the warm lagoon, and opulent hotel with its lavish restaurants and bars could be almost anywhere in the tropics. Except for the thoroughly delightful staff we had virtually no contact with the Jamaican people or the world they live in. And for many people that doesn't seem to matter. They come from the far corners of the earth to soak up the tropical sun and immerse themselves in the mindless luxury of the resort. And sunny Jamaica, with its endless stretches of sand and surf, good rum and cheap ganja, plus the reggae beat of Bob Marley's music, has all the ingredients needed to tap into this lucrative niche of the tourist market.

From an open breezeway outside our room we watched the cruise ships come and go from their berths 4 km away in Ocho Rios – huge multi-decked floating resorts carrying thousands of passengers. Most stay for only a day or two, just long enough for their passengers to buy a souvenir, take a short guided-tour or a dip in the ocean. In many ways our extravagant but cloistered hotel experience was like a land-based luxury-cruise and, like the ships, the hotels keep getting bigger and more elaborate. While the brand new Riu Ocho Rios is now the largest in Jamaica several others are nearing completion. I had a chance conversation with one of the Riu's managers who told me that Jamaica's tourist industry, is expanding so rapidly that several other multinational hotel chains are moving in. Among those presently under construction, a 2,000-room monster hotel down the road at Montego Bay will be more than twice the size of the Riu Ocho Rios. By next year it will probably be full.

When our week was up and we were carrying our bags through the massive lobby to our waiting airport bus a smiling young black man in a waiter's outfit waved.

"Hey Mon. You come back Jamaica."

"See you next year Jerome." I lied.

We had talked with Jerome several times during our stay. This was his first real job and he joked that by next year he would be running the place. In a country plagued by poverty and chronic unemployment he is one of the lucky ones. But as long as the tourists keep coming there is hope for other young men and women who have not yet found their niche in Jamaica's "all-inclusive" holiday industry.